


It Takes Three

by lockedin221b



Series: It Takes Three [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha Mary, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, OT3, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedin221b/pseuds/lockedin221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s a strain, being two alphas in a relationship.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Then Sherlock walks into the room—sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally—and all that strain washes away.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is quick and messy.
> 
> Notes: In my omegaverse headcanons, alpha women have penises (they're kind of sheathed like you get in a lot of mammals). Also, this is unconnected in terms of relationships/plots/etc. to any of my other omegaverse stories.
> 
> If it's not clear, everything John and Mary do with/to Sherlock is consensual. I tried to make that obvious without breaking flow, and even included a mention of something they would *like* to do but won't without asking Sherlock outside of his heat. I know omegaverse is dubcon for a lot of people. I'm not a big fan of dubcon. I like to make it clear that everyone involved is aware and sober (not in heat) when the relationship is established. Of course, this is more of a vignette type story, so that may not necessarily be clear. I'm telling you now, **everything is established and agreed upon** outside of Sherlock's heats.

It’s a strain, being two alphas in a relationship. John was aware of this from the start. It’s not about the sideways looks he and Mary get, or the muttered and sometimes shouted insults they get. They couldn’t care less about that. It bothered John, for a little while, but eventually he was too deeply in love to give a damn about the rest of the world.

It’s a strain because they are two alphas both with typical alpha personalities, and it’s the personalities that make it hard sometimes. The fights are as volatile as the fucking, and sometimes the latter can’t make up for the former. They’ve been close to splitting up more times than either of them is keen to count. Sometimes love doesn’t cut it, doesn’t make up for the screaming and thick-headed stubbornness that prevents either party from owning up.

Then Sherlock walks into the room—sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally—and all that strain washes away. John and Mary are both ready and willing to apologise. As much as they’ve guiltily speculated about leaving one another, neither of them could leave Sherlock. Their brilliant, beautiful omega. He needs them as much as they need him, not that he ever says it aloud. None of them do.

Sherlock doesn’t have to say anything, doesn’t even have to acknowledge there was a quarrel when he walked in. He usually doesn’t. All he has to do is be there, and, whatever the tension between John and Mary, it smoothes over.

At night they will fall into bed together, in any number of combinations. John and Mary take turns with their omega, sometimes in the same night. Some nights they are piled together, John or Mary stretched and slick with artificial lube with the other inside while they’re inside Sherlock. Some nights one of them watches. They’ve even had Sherlock watch, with one of his large vibrating dildos inside his arse while he succumbs to the sight of his two alphas taking each other apart in the best possible ways.

What Mary and John don’t tell Sherlock is how much they look forward to the omega’s heats. They know it’s not the most pleasant of times for him, and in turn they feel guilty for wanting it. It doesn’t stop them from wanting it, though.

They take turns, sometimes in rapid succession, losing count of how many times any of them as come, until Sherlock gasps for them to stop. He passes out for a couple hours at a time, writhing in a restless sleep. They’ve wanted to take him like that more than once. For the past several heats, they’ve debated asking him. They always forget when they heat subsides, like the idea has dispersed along with everyone’s excess pheromones.

John and Mary’s favourite part, however, is at the height of Sherlock’s heat, when he’s begging for relief, when his entire body shudders violently at the slightest touch. That’s when John and Mary converge on him together, noses in the crooks of his neck as they manoeuvre his long, supple body between them, hushing him with soft voices, whispering comfort and kissing him gently.

Their omega is as loose and wet as he’ll ever get, a combination of his heat and the almost nonstop fucking John and Mary have given him over the past couple days. It’s obscene how open he is. Obscene and beautiful and demanding. It demands attention, demands to be filled until it can take no more. And that’s what John and Mary do.

They push into Sherlock together. Sherlock always screams as they enter him in tandem, and then he clings to whoever has taken the front this time around and keens and begs for it to continue, for them to fill him and give him the relief he so desperately needs. Need is his word, not theirs.

John and Mary have it down to an art. They know how to time it so they are both completely inside Sherlock before either of them knots, heads rubbing together inside his internal cunt. It doesn’t take more than a few tandem thrusts to bring Sherlock to climax, but it takes longer for them, and, by the time they come, their omega has had at least three or four orgasms. He’s reduced to a limp body between them, a willing vessel for them to fuck until they’re satisfied.

Later, when the heat has subsided, but the memories are fresh and Sherlock is still a little drunk on the residue pheromones, he’ll talk about how lucky he is to have to alphas who take such good care of him. He’ll say every omega should be so lucky during their heats. He doesn’t say it now, though. He doesn’t say anything. He’s incapable of anything beyond whimpering and moaning and quiet, shattered cries of pleasure.

When they’re done, they carry their sated omega to the tub. They take turns climbing in behind him, keeping him somewhat upright as they bathe him with a soft, affectionate touch. They change the sheets and lay him out on a clean bed. Then they each take a side, settle in beside their omega and keep him warm and protected with their own bodies. They let him sleep. It’s the most he’ll sleep during his heat. He’ll wake up well-rested, but with his heat returned in force. They’ll go back to taking turns, but sometimes one of them will sit behind him, holding him, combing his damp curls with their fingers, murmuring love into his ears as the other makes brings him to climax again and again.


End file.
